Stay With Me?
by januaryfreeze92
Summary: 1990 Version of Phantom- Fluffy rewrite of when Erik brings her into his home and lays her on the bed. Some Kay and Leroux. One shot EC.


**I understand that I'm in the midst of another phanfic at the moment, but I'm having some writers block as to how I want to word the next chapter...**

**This fic is based on the 1990 Kopit version of Phantom of the Opera. You can find it on youtube, so you know. There are 24 parts, but it is so worth it. It also relates a bit to Kay and Leroux.**

**Description: 1990 Version of Phantom- Fluffy rewrite of when Erik brings her into his home and lays her on the bed. Some Kay and Leroux. One shot EC.**

Stay With Me?

A Phanfic

Christine could feel his heart beating against her ear as he carried her up into his home. She didn't open her eyes when they had first entered, but did so now as he lay her down on the bed. The first thing she saw was his eyes as he said to her, "Alright, it's alright: You're with me now."

She looked back up at him shyly, starting to feel comforted and he started to sing her some sort of lullaby. Christine closed her eyes once more and let his sweet voice drift over her, lulling her into a relaxation she hadn't felt before. His voice was as hypnotizing as it was beautiful.

Feeling him get up, she stirred, looking up at him. "Erik?" she whispered, interrupting his beautiful song. He looked down at her. "What is it, Christine?" He asked, concerned. His eyes held nothing but adoration and she swallowed and averted her eyes.

"Please, don't leave," she said quietly. His eyes held a kind of amusement as well as shock as he sat back down. Christine laid her hand in his once more as he sang to her once again and she drifted off to sleep.

When this happened he pressed his cool lips to her forehead. They lingered there for a moment before Erik got up and let loose the curtains around the bed. With one last glance back at her sleeping form, he left the room and downstairs to his parlor to have a glass of brandy.

**- - -**

Christine awoke as if from a nightmare in an unfamiliar bed. She gasped, sitting up, only to remember that she was in Erik's home. _'I thought he would stay with me,'_ she thought sadly, her blue eyes watering slightly. She got off the bed, still in her Marguerite costume, and moved to the door. Christine opened it quietly, hoping that he wasn't asleep.

Christine walked quietly across the hallway to another door. She opened it slowly and walked in, not really looking at what was in there yet. After closing the door she turned around and saw her surroundings for the first time. In the middle of the floor there was a large coffin. The organ was beautiful, but everything else in the room frightened her incredibly. She screamed and ran out of the room quickly, running down the stairs in a great hurry, just trying to find him.

Erik looked up from where he was in shock. With a curse he got up and ran to exit the room. "Christine?" he called, looking for her wherever she may be because he heard her run down the steps. Suddenly something ran into his back. He jumped, reaching for the Punjab under his cloak until he felt small, pale arms encircle his waist. Erik turned and held her to him. "Shh, shh," he said, wiping away her tears. "What has upset you, my dear?" Erik pulled her to him once more when he realized she was much to distraught to speak.

He picked her up again, letting her cry onto his shoulder. He started to walk up the stairs again but she protested and he carried her to the parlor. He sat her in his large armchair out of politeness and knelt by her feet. Erik offered her his handkerchief and she took it gratefully, dabbing her eyes. Once she calmed down, she turned to him.

Taking a deep breath Christine asked, "Erik, why is there a coffin in your home?"

And this his eyes closed, hiding his shame. "Some things you shouldn't know, Christine," he said softly, caressing her hand in his, "Why were you there?"

"I'm sorry," she said, sensing that she said something wrong and started speaking faster, "I just didn't know where - I was looking for you - I - I..."

"Christine, my dear, dear, Christine," he said trying to calm her down, fearing she may hyperventilate out of fear.

She slid down to the floor silently, wanting to be near him for an odd reason she didn't understand, and held his hands in hers, not daring to look up into his eyes. They sat like that for a few minutes until he said, "I don't think the Count would appreciate you being so close to another." There was hurt in his eyes and he stood up, once again an emotionless stone behind his mask.

"_What?"_ She asked, her voice small. She looked up at him and saw him put a deep gray mask over the first one, giving him an appearance of ancient sadness. She stood up. "Maestro - "

"_Erik_," he said, turning back to look at her, is golden eyes beseeching.

"What?"

"My name is Erik," if she wasn't here he would consider some opium to calm his nerves, but he would not put her through the terrible drug.

She nodded. "Erik?" Christine said this time, standing up and walking to him, his back was still to her. "Please forgive me," she said, averting her eyes sadly.

"What am I forgiving?" he asked, his eyes were still betraying hurt, but also puzzlement.

"Anything, everything," she turned him around with her tiny hand.

"There is nothing to forgive," he whispered, grasping her small hands in his. "But, that said, the Count is still your..." he trailed off, not even knowing.

Christine looked up at him. She couldn't deny that Phillipe was someone in her life, and that what they had was something - some kind of spark... She didn't know what to say.

"But he is no Erik," she said, not really sure what she was saying. He looked at her now, not even trying to hide his puzzlement, and pulled of the black mask, showing her the white one underneath once again.

After a moment of silence he turned to her. "I don't understand."

Christine led him back to his armchair and set him down, setting herself down at his feet this time. She held one of his large hands between hers, fondling its long, pale digits. In a moment of bravery she looked up at him, just to see him looking back down at her, his eyes intense.

In that moment she could see everything. Christine pulled herself up into his lap, weighing less than a feather, and draped her long golden hair over him. She lowered her face down to his slowly, looking deep into his eyes. He sat there, mesmerized by her. Christine's went up to stroke his hair softly and he all of a sudden turned to her, his eyes outraged.

"You little vixen," he said, thinking he at last understood, and ever so gently pushed her off of him. "I see how it now is. Do you try to hurt me, Christine?" Erik asked her, going into a temper rather fast.

She shook her head quickly. "N-no," she said, standing up and backing up to the wall.

"Really, Christine. Did you plan this with the Count, your lover? Did you plan to hurt me, someone who cares about you so much, just to get rid of me and go without remorse back to that... _boy?"_

"No, Erik, no!" she said a bit louder this time as he smashed his tumbler to the ground and tried to control himself once more to no avail.

"I should have never _loved you!_" He yelled, escaping from the room and up the stairs.

She gasped in shock at his words but didn't think about them, just followed him up the stairs. Christine heard beautiful, angry, but sad music coming from the door. She knocked. When he didn't answer her she opened the door and moved in silently. She saw the mask on the top of the piano, but she didn't care.

Christine didn't call out to him, just walked forward and stood behind him. Nervously, she slid her hands down his arms. His fingers stumbled momentarily, but he kept playing. Her arms slid around him and she buried her face in the back of his neck. "Please, it isn't like that," she cried. "I promise you, it is not. I could never adore him or respect him as much as I adore and respect you," she cried, taking short, fast breaths. "Please, don't be so angry. I promise, I never will do anything wrong again."

He stopped playing and reached for his mask. He placed it over his face in a slow deliberate motion and turned to her. "You never do anything wrong, my angel, it is always me," he reached his hand up to caress her face and she leaned into it, the tears stopping. Slowly, warning him with her eyes, she brought her face down to his. She was surprised that he didn't hear her pulse beating away in her ears as she kissed him, but apparently he didn't or just didn't care for he deepened the kiss after a few moments. After their passionate moment had ceased to exist she sighed softly and looked deep into his eyes. "Thank you," she whispered with a smile.

"No," he said, "Thank you."

**Review and tell me what I can do to make it better! I didn't like this one as much, but please don't flame me. Check out my other phantom one, I like it much better and I've gotten great feedback about it.**


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